


Caelo Cinereo

by CaseyStar



Series: Summer Pornathon 2013 Entries [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:10:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaseyStar/pseuds/CaseyStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Challenge Six - Light and Dark.  </p><p>Chose light and dark rather than light or dark.</p><p>The differences between Merlin and Arthur, in how they fit in the world and with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caelo Cinereo

**Author's Note:**

> Over on tumblr [ kcsplace](http://kcsplace.tumblr.com), so come say hello here if you want.

He was forever one step behind Arthur, hidden, as he kept his friend safe, treading on his shadow, utterly reliant on Arthur’s life for his own, to gift his existence, and his magic, with purpose and meaning. While Arthur commanded the sun itself, Merlin lived the half-life of a phantom. But they were safe like this, living as one another’s shield.

The few times when Arthur momentarily stepped aside, the light was so blinding that Merlin was glad of his work being shrouded deep within the dark, away from the prying eyes and accusations of the peoples of Camelot and beyond. As the spark that smouldered within Arthur burst into a flame and grew ever brighter, ever more mesmerising, the shadow he cast propagated shadows of its own and the brighter his light the longer, darker and less distinct were the edges between the shades of grey in which Merlin existed. 

But when they were like this, their bodies so entwined they could be one, the stark differences between them seemed so inconsequential; Merlin’s rough clothing littered with Arthur’s finery upon the freezing stone, Arthur’s crown locked away out of sight and mind as barked orders melted away, worlds of magic and steel cast aside as Arthur’s tanned skin pressed so desperately into Merlin’s pale, as the same sweat beading upon their bodies as they rut, as their heads press so close as they kiss that their hair tangles together for a heartbeat, Arthur’s darkening with sweat, before the fearless king buries his face into his lover’s neck, safe and hidden as he draws deep lungful after lungful of _Merlin,_ hands greedy and frantic. 

As they get closer and closer to the edge, Arthur gasps his love into Merlin’s ear, hips stuttering as he spills, slicking Merlin’s insides with the heat he craves, Merlin bucking up to press his own cock into the blond hairs on Arthur’s belly, the rasp and friction enough to hurtle him into climax and at that moment, as his mind is devoid of thought, as his eyes slide closed and his back arches, as Arthur’s thrusts turn lazy, gentle, just shallow movements to feel the slick possession of his come, Merlin feels he can stand in the light that exudes from his king and not be blinded. He can touch that light and not be burnt. He can stand in the sun at Arthur’s side and see the world that they are creating, a time of peace and prosperity, a land of light and, just for that moment, Merlin can feel the warmth and surety of facing enemies, both within and without, side-by-side with his King, words once whispered in secrecy and darkness, shouted joyously aloud in defence of those he loved.

Rolling to their sides, their heads share one pillow, Arthur uses his feet to retrieve and grapple the covers into arms reach and over their cooling bodies, reluctant to release his lover, hands still roaming cooling skin in the secret gloom beneath the blankets, no longer desperate, instead satiated and lingering as the couple revelled in the intimacy.  
So unlike outside this room, or this tent, these stolen moments. Outside the bruises bloom deep upon Merlin’s skin when he’s so focused on Arthur and keeping his secret hidden that he spares no thought for his own wellbeing, the blood smears crimson across Arthur’s jaw and taints the golden blade as those that deny his quest for peace attack his cherished home. Outside, the lines between light and dark are no longer the blunt naivety of youth, when the difference between right and wrong, black and white, were distinct and clear and now the shades of grey obscure the light as blood becomes enemy of blood. Here, in this bed there’s only them, painting the walls the vibrant hues of lust and love, illuminating the chambers with whispered words and muffled promises, dreams of a world half-made but radiant in its beauty 

When Arthur lay among the fallen, so long had he resided there, Merlin had _become_ a shadow, and a shade could not exist without light. Robbed of his shield, Merlin was thrust into the unrelenting, unforgiving glare of the sun , blinded and burning away as he watched his friend, his lover, his King approach the gates of Avalon before simply ceasing to be.  
He waited, hidden as he darted from shadow to shadow across Albion. He would outlast the sun if that was what it took to be Arthur’s shadow once more.


End file.
